


Heavy Sighs

by RJLadyA



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Late Night Conversations, No Smut, Other, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RJLadyA/pseuds/RJLadyA
Summary: Irritated and tired, Shae let's slip her opinion on idiots and rope. Something along the lines of "yeah, you have no idea what you're even talking about. "This is the aftermath.Mature because of the subject matter. Written on my phone.
Relationships: Iron Bull/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Heavy Sighs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beckily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckily/gifts).



Another night.

I really need to leave this place and just keep walking.

Familiar sights, familiar people. I'm just so tired.

She sighs deeply and walks into the tavern. It's late, food's mostly gone and people are drunk. Only Bull and some of the chargers are left.

This was a stupid idea, should have just gone to bed.

Then a whistle sounds from across the room. She looks over at the rather large man now grinning at her. 

"Hey Shae! You're the professional, get over here. I've got questions!"

Well crap. Never should have opened her mouth.

Ha! Wonder how many other people thought that, during an evening with The Iron Bull.

She glares for a minute, eyebrow raised, let's out a deep, put upon sigh and stalks over.

"Alright what am I the expert on now? How to fish out the laundry from the lake? screaming at errant children without actually scaring them because they aren't my child? Baked potatoes in a campfire? Being really annoyed that there is no real tea here?" 

He looks at her for a minute, smile slightly dimming, actually seeing how tired she is.

"Nah. None of that."

She says nothing, feeling slightly bad that she shattered the mood. She looks around the table, runs a hand through her hair and decides. Making a motion towards him with her hands. He sits back, straight in his chair.

She walks over and perches on his lap spine straight, flips her hair back over her shoulder smacking him with it and stares the table down. 

"Well? Speak." The tone brooks no argument. It's like sliding on a costume, the tone, the posture, the strength. 

He feels it, he has to, she is sitting on his lap like a throne. 

"Can you really do those rope things like this?"

One of the Chargers slides over a book with surprisingly tasteful sketches of bondage art. It doesn't startle her, she's done it for too long and knows that part of her slips out occassionally. She takes the time to look, studing the ropes and the limbs.

She smiles softly, looking at the person bound but breathless, on the page.

"This... yes... but this is special. Look at their face, the muscles in their arms and legs. They aren't straining against the ropes, the ropes are supporting them." She shows the book to the table then turns it back to herself, her fingers gently caress the page.

"This isn't sexual, this is..." she is unaware that she has leaned back into Bull's chest, her voice has softened.

"... this is comfort. This is safety. This person spends their life moving, doing things, never calming down. Whoever has tied them, knows this." Her hand gently touches Bull's arm, absently, as she whispers. "Be still."

She continues talking to the table, "There is no pressure on the joints, all of the ropes are around the thickest parts of the leg and arms. The multiple crossovers on the chest are artistic not restraining the breath. Even the way their head is positioned, the way the hair is brushed back from their face allows the throat to be open, to breathe better." 

She turns the page to see a close up drawing of how their hands and feet are tied.

"Look at this, see?" She shows the table. "The wrists and ankles are crossed so that even if they panic and flail, they can't dig the ropes into the veins or cause nerve damage. They can't hurt themselves." She trails off, looking at the pages, the table is quiet just watching her. She smiles softly at the pictures, now almost curled up on Bull's lap. 

"That's trust. I miss it. I miss the weight of the ropes in my hands, shaking them out to make sure there aren't any kinks. Draping them over a person to tease their skin before I set my slip knots. Knowing that an hour later they will have the best sleep they ever had.

Knowing that I will never talk to anyone about it, holding that secret gratified smile as I let them out of my ropes." She sighs, suddenly more tired, off in her thoughts.

She doesn't notice when Krem takes the book from her and slides it back to its owner, or that the whole table is quiet just watching. Bull scoops her up and stands slowly, so as not to disturb her ruminations and walks up the stairs into the first unoccupied room. 

It's quiet downstairs, when the door locks. Krem and the Chargers watching quietly. 

"Shit, I didn't think he was right about her. I owe him two gold now." Krem flops his head onto the table. The table bursts into laughter a couple of conciliatory back slaps later they clear out.

As for the two upstairs... It's the best sleep either of them have had in years.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Beckily... I read one of hers and it was so hopeful and bright and thought damn I'm old... that is not how my night would have gone.


End file.
